


Hot Surface

by DaveandKen_Archivist



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Older Characters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveandKen_Archivist/pseuds/DaveandKen_Archivist
Summary: Hutch in his best cooking apron...





	

**Author's Note:**

> by Chel. 
> 
> Note from the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Dave & Ken's Diner](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Dave_%26_Ken%27s_Diner), which experienced a drop in traffic to low levels following the opening of the official Starsky & Hutch archive. Still wanting to preserve the archive, Open Doors began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the archivist using the e-mail address on [ Dave and Ken's Diner collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/daveandkensdiner/profile).

 

 

"Honey, I'm hooome" Starsky sang mockingly, as he entered their apartment.

He caught a glimpse of bare backside, just before his partner spun around from the stove in surprise. Hutch was wearing his best cooking apron. He moved along to the bench - if he was any judge, he'd be safer away from the cook top.

"Hey, good lookin'" Starsky greeted, eyes roaming appreciatively. "What ya got cookin'?"

Hutch presented the wooden spoon, covered in Bolognese sauce.

Starsky stepped forward, laid his hand over Hutch's; licked the spoon its full length. Eyes twinkling; a promise of things to come.

He finished the sauce by dipping his nose on it, knowing Hutch wouldn't resist a kiss. He didn't; it was followed by a slow, sensual trail of tongue down past his mouth, to his throat then chest. Hutch pushed aside the open shirt, sucking in a nipple.

"Ah, ah, ahhhh" Starsky teased. "Not time to eat yet." He took the spoon - a wicked glint in his eyes - turned Hutch around to lean over the bench, and swatted him on the butt.

He followed each paddle with a sweet open-mouthed kiss. Hutch moaned.

"Hmm, tenderized - just the way I like my meat."

 


End file.
